


The Demon Beneath Angel Skin

by soukokuforlife14



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abilities AU, I'm sticking with the K, Is it Viktor or Victor???, M/M, Murder, Otabek can't handle it, Yuri is irresistible, Yuuri and Viktor are Yurio's adoptive parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-01 14:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14522196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soukokuforlife14/pseuds/soukokuforlife14
Summary: Otabek's the head detective in a murder case and his top suspect is more than a little intriguing........Orrr that one about ability users and shooting and fighting the government that condones human experimentation that nobody asked for.





	1. Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I planned to have this posted several hours ago, but I'm fucking posting at midnight again because I have issues. Whatever, hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Upon arrival at the suspect’s house Otabek’s first thought was, _this is the leading suspect?_

“Yuri Plisetsky?” Otabek asked curtly, looking down into surprised green eyes that eased at the question, “This is he. Who's asking?"

"Otabek Altin." Otabek responded offering a hand that the blonde man simply stared at for a moment before ignoring the gesture completely, "What do you want?” He asked crossing his arms across his chest, cocking an eyebrow.

“I just have a couple questions regarding the last time you interacted with Jean-Jacques Leroy.” Otabek answered, watching for any type of reaction that could indicate to his potential in being a link to the man’s murder.

“That jackass? What of him?” Yuri questioned without missing a beat, no minute flicker to his eyes, no further reaction than recognition of the name.

Interesting.

Otabek glanced over Yuri’s shoulder and with a huff and roll of his eyes he stepped aside to allow Otabek entrance. Nodding his gratitude Otabek stepped inside, carefully trailing dark eyes along the space he entered. Upon stepping through the door he was in what he assumed to be the primary living space. There was nothing notably interesting or concerning about it except maybe for the tiger painting hung up on the wall, but otherwise the room was fairly plain.

There was a sandy colored couch off to the side, two armchairs sitting across from it, and a glass coffee table was placed between them. A mug placed atop it’s surface half full with a deeply colored liquid that he assumed was tea. The smell of which drifted up from the mug in misty puffs of steam, surrounding it were sketches of clothing and other things such as jewelry.

“Designer.” Yuri said coming up behind him, lifting one of the pages, showing him one of the items he'd previously been working on. It seemed like a piece of jewelry, a bracelet, the band of which adorned a beautifully carved tiger head surrounded with tiger lillies. Flowers fanning out like a crown and around like a necklace.

“I'm coming out with a jewelry line.” Yuri said.

“That was Jean’s forte correct?” Otabek questioned cocking his eyebrow, Yuri nodded, “Yes, actually I talked to him a couple days ago about it.”

Otabek hummed, “Do you know exactly how long ago?”

Yuri shrugged, “Three days maybe?”

 _Two days ago, Jean’s body was discovered by his fiancé in his apartment, bullet through his skull, face on the tatami, empty bottle of liquor beside him and a broken glass on the floor._ Otabek ran through the facts of the case. Said fiancé had claimed the last time she'd spoken to him prior to his death had spanned an entire week due to a fight they'd had concerning the young man he was currently speaking with.

“Was that the last time you spoke to him?”

“No. The night we'd talked he called me drunk asking for some company. I said no and went on with my night.” Yuri answered placing the page back on the table, gathering the others into a somewhat neat pile then proceeded to seat himself on the couch.

His answers were relaxed and completely plausible, but that was to be expected after all this young man had once been the leading suspect in another case five years prior. He'd been let off but no one doubted that he had done it. Rather they were expecting another death to crop up with his fingerprints all over it. Otabek had previously been warned by colleagues that Yuri was smart and knew what he was doing. Seeing through his lies would take a hell of a lot more effort than usual.

Now he thought maybe he understood why.

An expectant look in bored green eyes indicated that Yuri expected him to sit as well. Seating himself in one of the armchairs opposite the blonde, leaning forward, keeping a neutral expression not betraying the rapid thoughts that coursed through his mind. A million scenarios playing behind his eyes, surfacing and being tossed aside just as quickly with every word that left Yuri’s lips.

“What was your relationship with Jean?” Otabek asked.

“Professional.” Yuri answered.

Otabek frowned thoughtfully, “Had either of you been interested in more?” The question was loaded, asking this would get him more answers than Yuri would anticipate. He may just be a murderer and damned good at it, but he was still clearly young in his years and Otabek hadn't been yanked back into the field for nothing. He was _good_ at this. Yuri may be harder to figure out than most but ultimately Otabek would get what he wanted.

He always did.

Yuri had a look of pure disgust contort his angelic features, “No, he hit on me when we met but that's as far I got with the bastard. Besides he's getting married right?”

“Was.” Otabek corrected, figuring now was as good a time as any to reveal what he was sure Yuri already knew. “Two days ago Jean was murdered. We’re still looking into suspects.” Otabek said watching the way confusion morphed into shock, green eyes wide, mouth open as he tried to call upon his voice.

“Holy shit.” Yuri said, voice a whisper breaking the thin veil of silence that had fallen between them as Otabek’s words sunk in. Soaked into the corners of the room, the truth that yesterday, that three days ago, was gone. Jean was dead and no matter how little Yuri may have cared about him, death scares everyone. It's an innate response, primal, everyone fears that which they don't understand and death is one of the biggest mysteries of life. All we know is it's the inevitable end. To learn someone has met their own especially in a violent manner is always a jarring thing.

Drawing a breath Yuri asked, “How?”

“Bullet to the brain. If it is any comfort a death like that is painless. By the time his brain would've registered pain he wasn't there anymore to feel it.” Otabek said hardly believing for a second that his words would be considered _comforting_ of all things, Yuri sneered, “Look I don't give a fuck if it was painful, do you guys have any leads?”

Otabek squinted in a scrutinizing manner, he didn't sound entirely concerned, rather he seemed curious the inflections of his tone subtly betraying the crease between his brow and set line of his lips.

“A few, though that information is not for civilian ears.” Otabek said. Yuri rolled his eyes, “Whatever, what else?”

Otabek gave Yuri a questioning look only half paying attention to whatever else may leave such pretty pink lips, if Otabek was honest, Yuri was extremely attractive and if not for the sake of professionalism and the possibility of this man being a murderer Otabek would've probably done some flirting of his. His features could hardly be considered human, angelic, otherworldly what with his golden hair and green eyes of many hues that carried a sharpened edge, soft jawline, and pink lips. But there could very well be a demon hiding beneath that porcelain skin and Otabek was determined to find it.

Besides, the magnetic pull he felt to this person was much more than attraction to his looks. His outer appearance was quite magnificent but he was more interested in what lay beneath that, if it truly were a demon, someone (thing) capable of great wrongs or if what lay beneath his skin was just a man. A human being caught in the middle of a murder, twice. The likelihood of that was impossibly slim. No, Yuri killed Jean, Otabek just didn't know why.

“What else?” Otabek parroted broken of his thoughts, a flicker of irritation flaring at his own action of getting lost in thought. Amateurs did that, newbies who hadn't a clue how to question someone. Too lost in what if’s, questioning themselves before even questioning the suspect. Otabek didn't do that. He was smart. Trusted himself.

“I don't know you tell me. Did you need to ask me anything else? I'm a suspect right? Best to just relieve yourself now don't you think? So we can both just get this over with.” Yuri said exasperatedly, expression pulled taught in flat lines, lips pressed together, and eyes narrowed.

Otabek cleared his throat, “Yes, I have a few more questions regarding your dynamics. You were strictly business partners correct?” Yuri nodded.

“Did you guys do things like drink together after especially long or tiring days?”

“No, I usually keep to myself, besides, I hated Jean, he was a narcissistic asshole and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if he just groped the wrong woman and hos actions came back to bite him in the ass. He had the habit of touching people without their permission. I knocked a couple of his teeth out when we met.” Yuri answered, sitting back, folding his arms across his chest and crossing his legs in what seemed like an overly comfortable manner.

“What of your colleagues? Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov?”

Green eyes narrowed, "They aren't colleagues. They're...friends of mine. They know of Jean through me but from what I was aware of they weren't close." Yuri said choosing his words carefully.

"You're certain of this? I found both their contacts in Jeans phone and several acquaintances of his said they knew each other." Otabek said, he was bluffing he'd never searched Jeans phone however his fiancé had said he knew them, but Yuri wouldn't know that.

Yuri didn't react, no minute movement, no jolt of surprise, no subtle widening of his eyes, no clench of fingers, no change of posture. He stayed perfectly comfortable in his position leaning into the cushions of his couch. The only change in his expression was the cock of an eyebrow, "Ok well I clearly was unaware of that," Yuri paused, frown pulling at his lips, "Are you questioning them too?" 

This man was smart but such pauses in his sentences afforded Otabek more information than surely he was aware of.

Otabek shook his head, he was asking the questions, not answering them.

“That is none of your concern, and I'm sure they'll tell you themselves if they deem it necessary.” Otabek said a placating lilt to his tone that received a twitch of an eyebrow in response. Yuri huffed, reaching up to run slender fingers through his hair that fell back to frame his face like sunlight. “Fine, was there anything else?”

“Yes actually, do you know anyone who may have done it? Anyone who may have wanted to cause Jean harm?”

Yuri’s face grew thoughtful, green eyes flitting to the coffee table between them. Finally after a prolonged pause Yuri shook his head, “No. I know he cheated on his fiancé might have something there, but otherwise. No.”

Otabek nodded, “Alright, last question and then I’ll leave.” Yuri waved a dismissive hand, “Not like I have much of a choice anyway right?”

“Right.” Otabek responded and without missing a beat he asked, “Did you kill Jean?” The question snapped in the space between them like a whip. Harsh and against protocol, questions such as those were reserved for full interrogations with several witnesses to help see through facades. But Otabek figured that if Yuri wasn't going to answer truthfully here then he wouldn't back at the station. He'd already done this once, surely he was better prepared than most.

“No.” The response was instant, was firm, not indignant, not appalled by the very notion it could've been him, not shaky, wary of sounding like a liar. No he was nothing like most people, anyone in his position was either indignant hardly able to comprehend why they're being questioned, others are timid, each word leaving their lips in a stutter, eyes wide and fearful. But not Yuri. He was sure of himself, not in an egotistical manner and far from a wavering kind.

Yuri was _intriguing_ and if not for the sake of his job he'd have already insisted on getting to know this person better. But right now the case was more important. The same could not be said for _after_ and if it was proven that Yuri was innocent he'd be all too happy to take up the job to apologize to Yuri for the inconvenience.

Hopefully for his sake, this doesn't affect his job. Being suspected of murder or any form of crime can steal decades worth of career building in an instant and even the innocent man will spend decades more trying to scrounge it back up.

With a satisfied nod Otabek stood. If Yuri was the killer he sure as hell was doing a damn good job at hiding it. Fortunately this was only the beginning, the investigation would progress further and with their best detective leading the case it was unlikely Yuri would get away with Jean’s murder the way he had his own grandfather’s.

Enthusiasm sprung in his chest and he hadn't felt this eager to start a job in years. Perhaps eager was the wrong word, implied the job excited him, made him happy in some morbid way. But it didn't. Rather it furthered his deepening loss of faith in humanity. How can you love something that always seems to fail you?

But something about Yuri struck him as unbearably interesting. He wasn't a murderer who took joy from the act of stealing life. But there was no remorse there either. No the right word, for lack of a better one, was curiosity.

Otabek left Yuri’s home with a curt goodbye and silent promise to meet again. The blonde man held his gaze second for second, walking him to the door as he moved to put his hair up into a haphazard up-do that freed his face of sunlight colored locks and exposed the pale of his face. His eyes grew brighter without the shadow of his bangs and watched him carefully. A sharp edge that no stranger to witnessing death should carry.

*

When Yuri shut the door he released a long suffering sigh, biting his lip he contemplated his options. The best he could do was contact a specific someone but the thought of it had him grimacing.

 _Fuck._ He didn't want to call him of all people for help. But clearly he'd done something sloppy as it's only been two fucking days.

Huffing frustratedly Yuri turned from his door and walked over to grab his phone off the coffee table, jostling the pile of papers. A mix of new designs and his report that he'd hidden at the bottom of the pile away from the dark prying eyes of that fucking detective. Too bad, the guy was hot too, but Yuri wasn't an idiot. He knew what that man had come for and knew he'd walked out with more than Yuri had given him outright.

Punching in the number Yuri held the phone to his ear and waited, the click of someone answering was quick and Yuri didn't waste a second before saying, “Jean’s dead, someone knows I did it.”

“Well hello Yurio,” Viktor greeted, Yuri grit his teeth, “That's not my fucking name. What the hell do I do?”

“Someone knew when your grandfather died of _unnatural_ causes five years ago, you got rid of him didn't you? Surely you can handle yourself with this person as well correct?” There was a biting warning to Viktor’s words that sent a shiver down Yuri’s spine. He'd never once been afraid of Viktor or the power he held over some of the most vile criminals in Moscow, that didn't mean he completely trusted him though. He knew Viktor cared but he wouldn't risk the entirety of his _organization_ as he puts it, at risk for a single ex-member. Yuri couldn't blame him for that either.

“I just...didn't want to resort to _that_.” Yuri said, voice quieter now, weakness seeping into his tone that had Viktor sighing softly. Fondness laced in the breath born of years knowing and _raising_ Yuri. “None of us want to stoop to those levels, to manipulating others with what they never had a chance at fighting against, but sometimes we have to. It's just the cards we given for the game.”

Yuri nodded well aware Viktor couldn't see it but gave no other response as affirmative, “How’s Katsudon?” He asked diverting the conversation, not wanting to dwell on using his ability or the planning that would to go into it. That could be saved for later, right now though he could pretend he was like anyone else, just calling a close friend to see how they're doing.

“Yuuri? He's right here actually, would you like to speak with him?”

Yuri bit his lip, Yuuri would offer more understanding, after all his ability was fairly similar to Yuri’s not quite as gruesome but close enough that Yuri had almost always felt a sense of comfort when he was around the man, “Sure,” he said.

The phone was passed over, “Hi, Yurio! Your mission was a success correct? Minako is insisting that the report be placed on her desk by tomorrow morning I told her to give you some time though.” Yuri snorted, “Whatever, listen I-” he cut himself off not entirely sure what exactly he wanted to say.

“You have to use it?” Yuuri asked, the smallest of smiles evident in his voice. Not the joyful kind, the understanding kind. Yuri nodded again, he knew Katsudon couldn't see the action but also knew the man didn't have to. An audible inhale followed by a loud exhale before, “I see, just remember you're doing it for the right reasons. Even if it doesn't seem that way to anyone else. But it does to every ability user out there who’s trapped. Being experimented on. Ability users like you, treated like trash by family members. You're doing this for them, all of it.”

Yuri’s jaw was clenched tight but he nodded once more, Yuuri’s soft hum was enough of an indicator to know their borrowed time had come to an end, “Ok, right,” Yuri said bidding Katsudon farewell and a be safe before slipping his phone from his ear and staring at Viktor’s contact info still lit up on his screen.

Yuuri was wrong, he wasn't doing anything for anyone, hadn't been for nearly six years. The only reason Viktor even sent him on a mission at all was because he trusted no one else to handle it.

Jean had been a leak, had been taking valuable info from Viktor’s organization and giving it to the government. Yuri’s job was to rid him of the loose link in the chain, the one other person he genuinely trusted in Moscow to get the job done despite having quit so many years ago.

But that was the life of an ex-Mafia executive. He was lucky Viktor had let him leave at all, what with all the information he had regarding the group and both Viktor and Yuuri themselves. It was Viktor’s job after all, to not trust even his closest subordinates, to never turn his back on another person for that may be his demise. Katsudon had been different from the start and well Yuri had never had anyone else but those two since he was little. So he wasn't about to betray either of them. But even people like Christophe couldn't be trusted, he seemed to lack any interest in being the head but that didn't make him someone worth complete and utter faith either. Viktor only had a select few he could trust and even then the relationship was shaky bent and swayed too easy to snap.

Yuri shook his head, none of that was important right now. Rather what he needed to be doing was learning all he could of the detective, Otabek he'd called himself. Easy enough. It'd been clear from first glance that Yuri’s features alone had enthralled the dark man and he wouldn't be hard to bend to Yuri’s will. To manipulate emotions, confuse them and make him feel as though he were desperately in love with him. Enough so that if Yuri wished it, Otabek would gladly jump off a bridge, wring his neck, shoot himself in the head.

Yuri hated his ability, what he could do to someone with little else than a brush of his fingertips. But if only for the sake of clearing Viktor's and Yuuri’s path to equality between ability users and not then Yuri would gladly do this for them. It wasn't like he was doing anything else but designing clothes and jewelry for non-ability users pleasure anyway.

Rubbing at his temple with one hand and with the other Yuri grabbed his tea and moved to the kitchen to heat it up. Today was going to be _long_ and arduous and Yuri didn't want any of it. But, this was his life. This was his job. A shame though, Otabek had seemed strangely familiar and now Yuri had no way to know how. Couldn't look into it because he'd be too busy deciding on the best course of action for the future.

This was only the beginning of the investigation. Surely Otabek would be back and Yuri wouldn't be surprised if he had a swarm of officers flanking him. But even if he did, if Yuri played his cards right, this would end just as smoothly as five years ago.

 

 


	2. Meeting At Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weee you guys I finished the chap! I tried to put it down at times to finish my previous projects but I couldn't help myself. I really truly hope it lives up to your expectations and you thoroughly enjoy it!!
> 
> Ohhh btw I made a few changes to the first chapter which do influence how this story proceeds so I advise maybe skimming through it just to make sure nothing gets confusing! :)

Yuri’s eyes opened, the soft beeping having roused him. An artificial white light hung above him bright and flooding his vision, rubbing at his eyes roughly Yuri sat bolt upright. It was time for the first inspection. The beeping stopped, the sound of which woke him every morning, at least that's what he'd been told. He doesn't actually know whether he wakes with the sun or rises with the moon. He doesn't know whether the sky is pale or dark. He's hardly ever gotten a glimpse at the world that lies just outside the walls of the facility.

He's never once tasted fresh air on his tongue or glimpsed the stars at night. Glowing things that shine in the evening sky, opposite the day which shone only the sun for its brightness overpowered everything else. He knew this because sometimes the other children who were being raised here told him of the stars and sky and sun. 

Yuri is an experiment. A number on a paper. A potential weapon. At just five years old, he knows his place in this world is as a lab specimen. Born within these walls and never meant to leave not until his ability was both discovered and if useful polished. If not useful however...he wasn't sure. He only knew that many left with grave expressions - not the look of those to be set free - and never returned.

The door to his cell opened, his caretaker stood in the doorway, clipboard hugged to his chest, eyes sharp on Yuri who sat straighter - if that was even possible - beneath his scrutiny.

“Good morning Yuri,” the man greeted, he'd never given Yuri his name, in fact Yuri never spoke a word around this man, his eyes of brown nearly black and hair to match. He carried a heavy presence laced with irritation as though he didn't feel this job was good enough for him.

Strange, he never addressed Yuri by his given name he thought eyebrows furrowing slightly. Usually he addressed him by his number, digits of which were inked into the flesh of his inner forearm.

“How are you feeling?” The man asked stepping further into the space, but unlike usual the door didn't slide shut behind him, rather it was left wide open. Yuri’s eyes widened at the scene that was no longer skewed by the man’s body. Red splattered across the crisp white walls. Bodies clad in white coats scattered along the hall.

Yuri’s gaze shot back to the man in terror, the type of fear that rippled down his spine and set beads of sweat cascading down his temples. Only the man no longer had dark brown eyes and black hair, rather he had grey hair now, bangs of which fell to conceal the right side of his face and piercing blue eyes that softened a touch at the obvious fear in Yuri’s own.

“Hello Yuri,” he spoke calmly, still dressed in the white lab coat, empty of the red that flooded the halls just outside the room. Crouching in front of Yuri the man offered a cool smile, “Would you like to go home?”

Yuri’s brow furrowed, home? He'd never had a home. He had a cell. A cold containment case that kept him from interacting with anyone outside of feeding times. The only portion of the day spent in the presence of others. Were they dead too? Like those scientists just outside his cell? Did this man kill them? Would he kill him too if he refused?

Yuri swallowed thickly, slowly he nodded, the man's smile spread. It emanated something soft, gentle, _warm_. Yuri could scarcely recall the last time he'd seen such an expression on anyone's face let alone directed at him. He supposed the last time would've been moments prior to being torn from his mother’s arms. He'd been granted two years with her. To grow. Two years to experience that warm feeling that coated the insides and curled one’s lips with happiness. Softened caresses and light brushes of lips on foreheads.

His caretaker had reluctantly explained that his mother’s worth had not yet run out and she had a duty. As one of the women to possess a stronger ability she was tasked with birthing children. After all the scientists were only willing to go so far before they crossed too many lines.

He explained that creating completely artificial humans without any natural steps were still impossible. This answer was given with disdain after Yuri’s continuous questions about where he'd come from and why he was there. He learned quickly that silence was expected. He learned quickly that punishment befell those who couldn't keep their mouths shut.

The man stood and offered Yuri a hand, the sound of him clearing his throat dragging Yuri from his thoughts. Tentative Yuri stood, not trusting this man enough to touch him. Touch was a strange thing for Yuri. He'd been touched in a multitude of ways both painfully and wonderfully, both cruelly and gently. Yuri has only been hurt in the last three years and he's grown to hate touch. Yet it also became a sacred thing to him. Cherished deep in his little heart. The warmth of careful fingertips and light whisper of lips against fever heated foreheads was the type of touch he wanted.

Grasping the hand of a stranger, a man of whom could very well have caused the scene just outside Yuri’s cell was enough to stop him short of gripping the hand outstretched to him.

Besides, he didn't have his gloves. He always had to wear gloves. The last time he'd touched someone with his bare skin something strange had occurred and his caretaker never elaborated, just gave him a pair of gloves warning to never touch anyone with his bare fingertips lest he wished to be punished. He didn't know this man and didn't know if he'd get punished for touching him and hurting him.

The grey haired man hardly seemed bothered by this, smile faltering but otherwise non-threatening as he led Yuri away from the gore. Taking him down the opposite way, leading him to a group of burly men that stood surrounding an older man not clad in a black suit and thick padding like the few around him.

He shot a curious gaze at Yuri who stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he stared at yet another stranger.

“Yakov, have the others been secured?” The grey haired man asked coming up behind Yuri, the older man - Yakov nodded, “Yes, though we lost a few of the children, some the security guards solely targeted the young ones.” Looking up Yuri watched something darken on the grey haired man’s face before the shadow dissolved and left behind a glowing smile that seemed awfully fake. Reminded him of the type his caretaker would often wear when speaking with the other caretakers.

“How many?” He asked in a deceptively cheery tone, Yakov swallowed, “Five.”

The grey haired man shook his head then chuckled all form of tension draining from his body, “You did what you could.” He said, voice no longer sickeningly sweet. Rather he sounded exhausted, the way Yuri often felt after they ran tests on him.

Relief seemed to wash over the older man’s features. As though the sugar to the grey haired man’s voice had honestly scared him.

Yakov nodded before turning and speaking further to the men that wore strange outfits.

Yuri payed this no mind though, currently focused on asking a question that swam to the surface of his mind, climbing up the list as the most important thing to ask first.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

The grey haired man startled before turning wide blue eyes on Yuri, he shook his head quickly before saying, “No. I'm going to protect you.”

*

Yuri's eyes snapped open. The sound of shuffling interrupting his dream. That particular dream one he hadn’t had in a long time. That day. The very moment he realized maybe there could be more to his life than the lab walls. It was that day he discovered what the sky looked like. How it spread so wide and blue. Clouds dancing along the surface of pale color and the bright shine of the sun too bright to look at.

Later that night he counted stars and collected constellations. His grandfather, an old man, someone of blood relation to him he'd never known existed promising he had a future beyond being a weapon. Beyond being a product of intense experimentation. 

But that was a child's dream.

Sitting up Yuri strained his ears, listening intently for the sound of more movement, filtering the sound of soft breaths emanating from the furry animal sleeping on his pillow. It didn't take long, whoever had broken in clearly didn't know what they were doing or who they were dealing with.

Yuri slipped from the covers attempting not to disturb Potya, grabbing the gun from his nightstand and proceeding out of his bedroom and into the hall. The shadows created good cover as he crept along the wall. Based off the sounds he could deduct whoever it was currently stood in the kitchen opening and closing cabinets who the fuck knows why.

Raising the gun Yuri called, “Who's there?”

When no response came Yuri rounded the corner, gun pointed at the figure that stood in front of the stove. Yuri wavered slightly, fortunately he didn't live in an apartment complex but he had neighbors and knew without a shred of doubt that if someone heard a gunshot suspicion would further on the detective’s end and he'd have swarms of police officers on his home in minutes. His somewhat peaceful life gone like he'd never had it to begin with.

Regardless that was the least of his concerns as this person could very well be one of Jean’s subordinates. A few of which had followed in his footsteps and aided him in hiding his betrayal. This person in particular seemed on the smaller side but that did nothing to comfort the blonde as he'd known too many to appear small and defenseless carrying an ability capable of stealing life in an instant.

“Hello Yurio.” The person said and Yuri instantly lowered the gun, the butt of it hitting his thigh as he growled something completely unintelligible.

“I could've fucking killed you.” He snarled placing his gun on the counter roughly before shooting a glare at Yuuri who simply smiled warmly back. “Hi.” He said again as though he hadn't just had a gun fucking pointed at his head.

“What do you want?” Yuri sighed, resigned, crossing his arms as Katsudon slipped a cookie between his teeth. The blonde just noticing the box of his favorite cookies brandished in a loose grip of fingers. Yuri’s eye twitched.

“Is there a reason you broke in at two in the morning or was it just to loot through my cabinets for sweets?” He questioned reaching out to swipe the box from Katsudon’s fingers.

Yuuri dodged the motion with ease, a slight smile on his lips, “Not quite, but partially.” He said waving one around like some sort of prize.

The blonde reaching out again, gaze catching on a flash of his own skin. The flesh of his fingers, unveiled. He dropped his outstretched hand and stepped back. The amusement fell away from Yuuri in that instance, the hand that held the cookie falling to his side and the box finding a home on the edge of the countertop.

“You can touch me you know.” Yuuri said gently, hands freed of the cookies he took a small step forward.

The blonde stepped back again.

“No, I can't.” Yuri said clenching his hands into tight fists. Refusing to be angry about things he can't change. Refusing to waste another moment on wishing they could be changed anyway. Silence fell between them. Green eyes searched the floor for something, anything, blinked away the blurriness.

Yuuri was looking at him in a way that felt almost tangible, sympathy staining his eyes. Yuri knew the brunet didn't pity him. But he couldn't help but feel as though sympathy and pity were the same thing. They just sounded different when spoken aloud. Same meaning just said differently. Besides, who wouldn't pity someone who couldn't ever experience touch? Someone who could never know the warmth of affection through the brush of fingertips? Someone who’s only memories of warmth and touch were hazy, lost to some far away place in his mind. A vague thing now. Abstract color. Pale hues. Pastel palettes and lights. But no shapes. No voices. Simply warmth.

Christ, his first kiss had been with a man twice his age and for the purpose of infiltrating a research facility. Full to the brim with ability users. Born and raised there. Lab rats. Potential weapons. Waste of space if not useful. Bodies tossed in the garbage can out back.

Yuri’s fists relaxed, shoulders released their tension, he was fine. He wasn't bothered by what he couldn't do. He was glad he could do anything at all and snapping at one of the people that made all of it possible wasn’t right. Wasn't fair. He wasn't like the people in those facilities. Not anymore. He was free and he'd be damned if he spent even a moment under appreciating what he's got.

The blonde lifted his gaze back to Yuuri’s.

“What does Viktor want?” He asked, shattering the silence between them and allowing the shards to fall around them. Cutting. The brunet considered him for a moment, brown eyes flicking between Yuri’s own.

“Information on the cop who’s after you.” Yuuri said. Clearly having found whatever it was he'd been searching for in Yuri’s gaze.

The blonde nodded, he'd expected as much. Even after Viktor’s cold words the day prior, Yuri knew he hadn't intended to leave him to figure it out on his own. Though why he felt the need to have Katsudon break into his house at such an ungodly hour was lost to him.

“Is there a reason that couldn't wait until tomorrow?” He asked, folding his arms loosely across his chest.

Yuuri offered a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I have to be in Japan by tomorrow night. My flight leaves in two hours. But I wanted to see you.” This shouldn't have surprised Yuri, of course that was why. Of course he was swamped with whatever it was that required international affairs. So of course the middle of the night, early morning was reasonably a good time to visit. The part of the day slipping into the next in which he possessed time to spend on such frivolous things as visiting someone he for some god knows reason cared about.

Yuri sighed, more resigned than anything else and began listing off things about the detective and their time spent briefly in the living room, “Firstly he was odd. He was almost completely unprofessional. Didn't even introduce himself as a detective upon coming here. He even tried to lie to me, claiming he’d searched Jean’s phone which was more likely than his Fiancee’ knowing about you guys….” Yuri continued from there not stopping at behaviour or mannerisms but listing off facial features as well as stature and even choice of clothing.

The brunet nodded occasionally as he listened, pinched brow, hand periodically running through his hair. A mental tick. Something he did absent-mindedly. Yuri had picked it up when he was younger and often did that himself.

When he finished speaking Yuuri sighed. “Ok I’ll get Mila to look into the guy, Otabek right?”

“Altin was his last name.”

Katsudon nodded, biting his lip he seemed to be contemplating something before he stepped forward and wrapped arms around the unsuspecting blonde. Yuri immediately stiffened within the embrace making sure to not brush his skin against Yuuri’s which wasn’t likely to occur as the man was dressed head to toe in layers upon layers of cloth. But that didn’t comfort Yuri in the slightest, his hands were uncovered so he decided against shoving Yuuri away. The embrace only lasted a minute, sixty seconds yet had felt like hours. Once Yuuri had pulled away though despite the way panic had tensed his muscles he instantly felt deprived. Warmth he hadn’t realized he’d felt at the touch, hardly touch just cloth against cloth, fell away from him. Left him cold. _So_ cold.

“I have to go now,” Yuuri said focusing Yuri’s gaze as he tried to reconcile what had just occurred. Finally he nodded, finding his mouth to dry and his throat too tight to speak, his tongue immovable behind his teeth. Something lingered in brown eyes before Katsudon turned to leave, Yuri following closely behind him. Mostly just to examine the damage he’d done to his lock. “At least you didn’t break it.” Yuri said a half hearted teasing lilt to his tone that sounded too forced. It wasn’t right that he could be so shaken from just a hug. It wasn't right that he couldn't steady his own heartbeat or loosen the tense set of his muscles, the blunt of his nails as they dug into the heels of his palms. Just because someone had touched him. That was all it took to completely and utterly unbalance him. 

Yuuri smirked, half of it drenched in the shadows of the night that still fell over the house, the sun needing to be woken from its slumber as time passed, “When have I ever broken any of your locks?”

Yuri cocked an accusing eyebrow, “ I seem to recall the last time you broke in you forgot you didn’t have any pins to pick the lock with and was literally bleeding so much I had to powerwash the porch with so many different type of chemicals I had to buy a larger welcome mat to cover the stain from all the cleaners. That particular scenario also ending with me having to by a new doorknob because you decided to just kick in the door.” He said.

The brunet had enough decency to look sheepish at that before he turned around and opened the front door, “You know leaving through the front door after breaking in the very same night after a detective visited my home doesn’t seem all that smart.” Yuri sniped. 

Katsudon tossed a small smile over his shoulder as he walked out, stepping off the porch saying, “It'll be fine, besides your neighbors know me. They know that I drop by at random times because I often travel to far away places. Like Japan." 

That's right. They did. When Yuri had moved in both Viktor and Yuuri had insisted on getting to know the neighbors. A strategic move on their part. A desire to know who did what, when. Their routines strategically determined through light conversation. Yuuri knew who was home right now within a five house radius and who wasn't. Who would be up in the next hour and who wouldn't until late morning.

“Right.” Yuri said, hardly a word at all, just a breath of sound that seemed like an answer. An adequate response. Watching Yuuri’s retreating back he bit his lip before adding, “Be safe. I hear they have it pretty bad in Japan.”

Yuuri stopped then turned, offering the smallest and most genuine of smiles, a little surprise mixed in there too as it was rare for the blonde to openly display any form of concern for him.

They simply looked at each other for a moment, a type of tether linked them together, a bond born of years spent fighting together. Of bleeding and cursing and surviving together. Finally he responded with a light hearted all too contradicting of the air between them, “I’ll be fine. Actually you should be more worried about Viktor who is currently beside himself with grief at my absence. Maybe you should go see him for a bit.”

The lightness to his tone didn't betray him but Yuri knew what he meant all the same. The report of his latest mission needed to be on Viktor’s desk today. If not given to him then to Minako who was busy enough having to worry about keeping accounts of all the other operations that transpired around her. All the reports she had to file through and all the deaths she needed to add to her roster. She needn't have yet another burden on her as Yuri took his time, or rather simply put off the inevitable.

He didn't want to rehash Jean’s death in paper. He always hated that part of the job because he always put too much emotion into it. Too much guilt or anger or frustration depending who he'd killed and what that death did to other people beyond his reach or understanding.

“I'll visit him tomorrow then.” Yuri responded.

The brunet nodded then turned back around, continued walking and Yuri continued to watch him until he'd disappeared. Around the corner there would be a car awaiting his return, a car that would drive him to the airport. There he'd probably meet someone who'd been tasked with going with him. Insurance. Assistance. A tool. A faceless subordinate who could be used and could be lost without it causing much consequence. Yuuri’s ability was only so strong and while he was decent at hand to hand combat and especially good with guns he was only human. Just like everyone else.

If only everyone else saw them for the damaged, manipulated people they were rather than the weapons the government had created them to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated!! I sincerely hope that this chapter was as good as the first!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos are highly appreciated~ Hope you enjoyed!


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